You are my cinema
by champagne-and-razor-blades
Summary: Castle asks Beckett to be his date to the Nikki Heat movie premiere. "It's a date?" "It IS a date."
1. I could watch you for a lifetime

It was two weeks and three days before the Nikki Heat movie premiere, and Richard Castle was really not sure what he had just done.

He paused, as did Beckett, both of them frozen. Her eyes searched his face, looking for an easy way out of what he'd just said. There wasn't one.

_("Will you be my date? For the premiere?")_

Even **he** had no idea where the words had come from, so he had no idea what **she **was thinking. Probably bad things. Maybe she was going to hit him. Oh, God, what was he going to do? The sentence had been too long to be passed off as a really odd-sounding cough...

"Castle. _Castle_."

"Wha- yeah?"

"Yes. I said yes." _Yes. She said yes. _ Why did she say yes? He hadn't anticipated that.

"You said yes?"

"Yes." Well, that was pretty clear. She had actually agreed.

"Well. Uh. Okay, then. It's a date?" The last three words slipped unbidden out of his mouth and he found himself wishing he could swallow them back. A smile quirked over her lips.

"It **is **a date." Beckett replied. No question mark? No question mark. Just a statement. _It's a date._

"It's a date?" He should really write a book on this. _101 ways to look like an ass in front of your future wife, part one. _

"Yeah, Castle, it is." Was she blushing?

"Okay."

"Okay." She WAS blushing. Holy crap, she was blushing, she was actually blushing- oh, and she was leaving. Leaving with a bit of a spring in her step and twirling a lock of hair around one finger. He watched her go.

_We're going on a **date.**_

* * *

_We're going on a **date**._

She kept repeating it, over and over, her brain almost unable to grasp the concept. A date. With Castle.

They were going to the movies together. It was an overwhelming cliche. She kicked her bike into gear.

(Well, it was a premiere of a movie based on the books he'd based on her, and that didn't happen to most people, but the general idea of it was cliched.)

The misty air, not quite heavy enough to be called rain, tugged at her hair, beading the long strands with tiny crystal droplets.

It must have been cold, but she couldn't bring herself to feel it, couldn't bring herself to focus on anything but the cold hard fact that, in three weeks, she would already have been on a date with him.

They were going to walk down the red carpet together.

They were going to have photos taken together.

They were going to watch as their on-screen pseudonyms fell in love and- oh. Damn. That part was going to be interesting.

Maybe they'd even do the whole fingers-brushing-in-the-popcorn-bucket thing.

Did you have popcorn at movie premieres?

_-At movie premieres... oh my **God, **what am I going to **wear?**_

* * *

This was an idea that jumped out at me late at night (does anyone sit in bed and write fanfictions in their heads? I do.) Caskett having an incredibly cliche first date.

Anyone who is interested in hearing more of this story, say aye.


	2. You're my favorite movie

"Lanie, I know you know this; but even though you're insane, I love you."

"I know you do, sweetie - _will you stop wriggling your toes?_ This top coat is gonna come out all funky-looking."

Beckett huffed out an exasperated breath of nailpolish-smelling air, stilling her feet where they rested in Lanie's lap. The ME tilted Beckett's foot, swiped the brush carefully over her pinkie toe, adding a layer of clear gloss to the gold polish.

"You know, you really, really do **not **have to do this..." she mumbled, resisting the urge to fidget more.

"Oh, I have to. This is your first date with Castle. I have been waiting for this moment for _years_ and I will not let you go brave the flames of love with shabbily painted nails."

"-'Brave the flames of love'?"

"The flames of your overwhelming, passionate love for Castl- oof, Kate, stop being unreasonable."

"Then never use 'overwhelming, passionate love' and 'Castle' in the same sentence again."

Lanie rolled her eyes and tutted, starting on the other foot. Beckett was struck by the resemblance to a rather forceful, determined bird clucking around her feet.

"Fine. Have you moisturized?"

"Yes!"

"You haven't, have you?"

"...No." she admitted, re-tucking the edge of the towel wrapped around her body back under her arm. Lanie pulled out her enormous purse - how she found anything in there, Kate had no idea - and rummaged for a few seconds, pulling out a small bottle of moisturizer.

"Go on; if you don't, then I will."

"Lanie, this is getting a bit ridiculous-"

"It's floral scented!" her friend protested, waving the bottle towards her.

"I don't think it's especially important that my legs smell like flowers, it's not like he's going to be-" she trailed off at the look in the other woman's eye. "... fine." Beckett unscrewed the cap and smoothed the lotion down her legs. Hmm. It did smell like flowers.

Apparently her toenails were now finished to the same standard as her fingernails, because her legs were unceremoniously shoved onto the floor. She wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with her own method of painting nails, but Lanie had protested loudly as she attempted to demonstrate that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. ("_What are you **doing**? The strokes have to be longer than that! Horizontal, not diagonal!") _

"Makeup time."

"Oh no."

"Oh _yes. _Don't worry, I'm not going to overdo anything-"

"-**Good**, because I don't want to look like a scary clown hooker again, remember last time?"

"Shhh! I was drunk, and anyway, you said you'd never bring that up again. I'm perfectly sober now, and don't worry, you're going to look natural."

* * *

It turned out that Lanie's idea of "looking natural" was taking nearly an hour to painstakingly apply makeup so that it looked natural. Still, Beckett thought, as she watched the play of light over her face in the mirror, it looked good. Better than what she could do.

And Lanie had taste, Lanie had great taste, because, oh, her dress. _The _dress. She didn't know how, or when, Lanie had managed to find the time to hunt this dress down, but from the minute they had slipped it over her head, she had stopped caring.

It was beautiful. Absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

The colour was an olive green that shimmered with gold whenever she moved; it made her skin look creamy and gave her eyes a deep green tinge she hadn't even known was possible. It somehow made her hair - which they had done in simple, loose curls, with several strands pulled back from her face and bobby-pinned in place - look almost golden. She wasn't sure how, exactly, it managed to do this; magical dress powers, maybe.

The dress itself was impossibly soft against her skin, a one shouldered design that fell to midway down her thighs in loose, flowing ruffles. Beckett loved it. Really loved it.

"Oh, Bex, you look... you look stunning. Absolutely stunning." Lanie gushed, channeling her inner 'proud mama' for all she was worth. "I am so _proud_ of you, honey." Kate pulled her shorter friend into a hug, spinning them both in a little circle around the room.

"Thanks. So much... wait, are you **crying**?"

"Nope, must be some ninjas chopping onions somewhere around here- _did you hear that too?"_ Beckett had heard it; the unmistakeable rhythm of Castle's knock on the door, but he must be early, surely it wasn't- she glanced at the clock.

"Oh my god, it's time! You're still here? Why are you still here?" the M.E huffed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Well it's nice to see you're appreciati-"

"No, no, that's not what I meant, it's just... I don't want him to think that I was freaking out about how I looked so much that I had to get you to come over."

"You _were _freaking out so much that you had to get me to come over."

"_I-know-that-but-I-don't-want-him-to-know-that!_" Kate hissed, throwing herself onto the bed and pulling the glittery gold heels onto her feet. "Purse?" Lanie stumbled to get it, stubbed her toe on the dresser and threw the purse at her. Beckett caught it, snapped it shut, skittered to the door. "Do I look okay?"

"Of course you look okay - I think my toe is going to fall off, now- what are you doing?"

"Get in the bathroom."

"_What?"_

"Get in the bathroom, he can't know you're here!"

"Beckett, you're getting ridiculous-"

"He is **waiting. **The bathroom. Get in it."

"Right, right, okay, no need to be violent... you have a good time, sweetie... remember that it's okay to make out with him as much as you want... do you have chapsti- **okay then byeeeee!**"

Lanie's talking trailed off as she reluctantly made her way to the bathroom. She wiggled her eyebrows at Beckett - wasn't that Castle's thing to do, anyway? - before sliding the door shut.

Then it was just Beckett, alone in her apartment (if you didn't count the madwoman in the bathroom, which she chose not to) with a certain Richard Castle waiting at the door and a whole lot of conflicting feelings.

She took a deep breath, and walked to the door.


	3. A thousand endings

Was it possible for all the air in your lungs to disappear without permission? Because that totally just happened.

Castle's jaw dropped, eyes widened, as the door swung open to reveal Beckett, draped in a slinky dress that clung to her in _all_ the right places and made her legs appear absolutely miles long. Every aspect of her was so entirely distracting; the soft curls of hair twisted back from her face, the smooth skin of her shoulder, the way her fingers tapped against her purse - was she nervous?

If she was, he knew the feeling.

His eyes mapped her face, until he got to her eyes - warm, warm eyes - oh. She was watching him watching her. Say something. _Say something._

_"_You look beautiful tonight." he managed, and she laughed. The sound washed over him.

"Wow, you're really pulling out all the cliches, huh?" Beckett muttered, rolling her eyes but unable to fight the smile that softened her features. "Should we-"

"Of course." Castle held out his arm after a moment's hesitation (this was a date, after all) and she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, her lovely long fingers resting against the soft fabric of his suit.

"I can't believe you agreed to do this."

"I can't believe I agreed to do this either, but I did, so here we are."

"Here we are." he echoed as the elevator jolted to a start. He was pretty sure he could feel her eyes on his face, lingering like mist in the morning, but he didn't test his theory by calling her out on it.

Something inside of him, the part that had been beaten down and kicked around by numerous beautiful women, expected her to let go of his arm, to back off, give them space, but she did nothing of the sort. Instead, Beckett's thumb traced circles against his elbow, the side of her body so close to his that he swore he could feel the phantom warmth of her.

_Of course she didn't move away. She agreed to go on a date with you. A date. With you. She agreed to it._

Something about her was different tonight; maybe because this was exactly what it seemed like. It was a date. It wasn't an undercover operation where they couldn't even tell where the pretense ended and they began, it wasn't going out for dinner after a hard case and wondering exactly what was and wasn't acceptable to do.

It was just a date.

Well, not just a date. It was _the _date.

Castle had to wrestle with the urge to squeal - ah, the cons of having a teenage daughter- at the idea. The reality of **oh my god, we're actually doing this.**

"How are we getting there?" Beckett asked, her voice swimming through the thick silence they had created.

"Limo's outside."

"Fancy."

They made eye contact for the briefest of seconds. Her eyes narrowed, playful, smiling, one of her brows raising. Was she smirking at him? Yes. Yes, she was.

"Looking forward to seeing your fictional counterpart on the big screen?"

"Nikki Heat, the slutty cop who _everybody at the premiere_ will know is based on me? Yes. Yes, of course I am, Castle." After a moment's hesitation, Castle lifted his free hand to her face, brushing a thumb over the corner of her mouth.

"Castle, what the hell are y-"

"Sorry, but you had a little bit of sarcasm on your mouth there.

"Very funny."

"There it is again."

"Shut up."

"Was that a genuine request or was it sarcastic?"

"_Castle._"

"Right."

* * *

Somewhere between him murmuring a, "ladies first" as they exited the elevator and the reassuring brush of his fingers over hers as she finally had to let go of his arm, the disbelief started to fade away and the reality sunk in.

_I'm on a date with Castle._

By the time they were halfway there, her entire body was thrumming with it, her blood leaping, her pulse buzzing so close to the skin that she was absolutely sure she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Beckett couldn't stop her eyes from crawling sideways and resting on him. He looked - and she'd always had resignations about using this word with men, but his appearance truly called for it - _gorgeous. _Richard Castle was gorgeous. He was dressed classically, black suit, white shirt, black bow tie, and, God, he pulled off the look with ease.

She wanted to touch him, just to make sure he was real.

A skim of her fingertips over the line of his jaw, one press of the heel of her palm against his chest. That couldn't hurt, right?

Wrong. It would.

She laced her own fingers together, imprisoning them in case they decided to betray her like the little Nikki Heat voice inside her head wanted them to.

Other people had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. She _wished _it was that simple. As far as her relationship with Castle went, she had a Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD voice who hissed _don't you dare, kate, you're gonna get hurt, _a Lanie voice who simply squealed every time he talked to her, and - although she would never admit this to anyone - there was a Nikki Heat voice, who tended to urge her to _just jump his bones already_ at really innapropriate times.

Which, incidentally, it was whispering right now.

Beckett curled her toes inside her shoes.

She'd had no idea that _being on a date with Castle _- because ohmygodohmydod that was totally happening right now - would feel like this. The ever-present longing was still there (well, duh, hence why it was called 'ever-present longing') but there weren't any barriers. There wasn't the work barrier, or the his-family-are-present barrier, or even the Interrupting Detective Kevin Ryan barrier. There was nothing to stop her.

Damn, damn, damn. As long as she didn't drink anything even mildly alcoholic, she'd be fine... Kate could hold her alcohol well, better than most, and still behave fairly functionally, but, uh, some parts of her were a bit _too_ eager to function, and that combined with her brain-mouth filter ceasing to work properly at all would _not _be a good thing around the ridiculously attractive man sitting next to her.

She ducked her head down a bit more, loose curls falling around her face, in an attempt to hide the rapidly spreading flush across her cheeks. Blushing was really not what she needed right now, but it had started happening a lot more around him.

All he had to do was say something suggestive, or just **look **at her in that way he did sometimes; look at her from under his eyelashes, and she'd blush.

A girlish blush really didn't go with the whole "badass cop" thing. Not at all.

Beckett pressed her lips together and watched the play of light over the fabric of her dress.

This was going to be interesting.


	4. You mean everything to me

The second the driver opened the limo door, a flood of noises, voices, greedy cameras clicking flooded in to greet them. Castle slid out first, and she followed him, letting him take the lead in this alien situation.

(It's not like her job held many opportunities for read-carpet appearances before he showed up.)

She expected him to hold out his arm for her to slip her hand through the way they had as they walked to the elevator - wasn't that sort of protocol? - but instead he reached out, sliding his hand down the bare skin of her wrist to link her fingers with his.

It was almost as if he had sensed her unexpected discomfort and, in response, had made his touch as reassuring as he possibly could.

Beckett liked that. It felt like he was anchoring her to him with their laced fingers. She squeezed his hand in thanks; in return, he tossed her a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and seemed far to genuine to be entirely for the cameras.

She wanted to make him smile like that more often.

They fell into step, the paparazzi shouting wordless syllables, and as if her hand wasn't enough for him any more - he didn't really _need_ to hold her hand; her heart was his anyway - he let go, only to slip his arm around the satin-covered curve of her waist and pull her closer. It was entirely too natural.

One of Castle's fingers stroked briefly over her hip, and she wondered if he could feel the increasing warmth of her skin seeping through the shimmery fabric.

Beckett still felt awkward about everyone's attention being focused on him, her, _them_... this was why modelling wouldn't have been the greatest career choice for her... but Castle striding next to her, Castle holding her tight against him, that made everything else fade into the background.

Then all of a sudden he said something to the security guard, and they were inside the building, and she was huffing out a relieved breath she hadn't even realised she was holding in.

"Enjoy that?" he murmured, low, his mouth so close to her ear that she felt all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing up as if they were trying to touch him.

"Thank _God _I didn't fall over."

"Those photos they took had better turn out nice; I might have to frame a few and give them to you for your birthday."

She couldn't for the life of her figure out if he was joking or not. However, she decided, that would be far from the worst birthday present she had ever recieved.

(Beckett would probably hang the photos on the wall in her bedroom and stare at them when she couldn't sleep. That was one more thing to add to her list of things she couldn't tell Castle unless they got married.)

A familiar face appeared in the elegant swirl of well-dressed celebrities and their associates. Natalie Rhodes, with her hair in a side twist and red lipstick on the lips-that-had-once-kissed-Castle's. Hmph. But Kate was completely over that. No hard feelings.

"Hey, Kate."

Maybe some hard feelings.

"And hey to you too, Rick!"

Fine. A _lot_ of them.

Castle squeezed her waist slightly, and Beckett leaned her body into his a fraction of an inch.

"Hello, Natalie. Looking forward to finally seeing you in action on the big screen."

"Well, I only hope I can do Nikki - or should I say Beckett? - justice." Natalie replied - did she just _check Castle out?_ Oh my **god, **she _did. _Get outttttt. "It's like the ultimate date, right, Beckett? Going to see a movie based on a book he wrote about you?"

Kate wasn't sure whether to strange her with the strap of her stupid designer handbag or smile because it was true. She grudgingly went with door number two.

"Yeah, it is." out of the corner of her eye she saw Castle watching her.

"Best first date _ever_." he added, and the two of them watched realization dawn in the actress's eyes.

"Wait, so you two aren't-"

"No." Castle admitted reluctantly.

"Not yet." Beckett blurted out at the same time, then flushed slightly at the look he shot her.

"Well, I've gotta give it to you, you two are better at dragging out a relationship than the writers of _Bones._ That said, I'll leave you to it... enjoy the movie!"

And with that, she spun on her Christian Louboutin heel, tossed her head like a frisky pony and trotted off to talk to a gaunt yet attractive man wearing a white tuxedo and a sleazy grin.

"Well... uh..." Kate stuttered, wondering all at once where her intelligence had gone and why it had chosen to abandon her on what could potentially be the last first date of her life.

She considered starting a conversation, but decided to leave that to him. Who knew what would happen if her mouth ran away with her.

Actually, she had a vague idea.

("Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to have your babies."

"_What?"_

"Nothin'.")

Yeahhh, she wasn't saying anything any time soon.

* * *

Beckett slipped into silence beside him, _against _him, a slight furrow forming between her eyebrows. He wanted to kiss it away. Castle wondered what she'd do if he leaned over and did just that.

He didn't know, but now was probably not the best time to find out.

"She's certainly something." he muttered, pushing past the fact that omgomgomg Kate Beckett had just implied that they would be in a relationship one day.

"At least she's not fixated on becoming my freaky-clone-twin any more."

"That was kind of irritating after a while." he agreed.

"_Kind of! _She stole my coffee, Castle!" Beckett protested.

"Still holding a grudge against her for that, Detective? Surely she's not the first person to deprive you of a caffeine hit?"

"She was the first person to steal one of my coffes from **you!**"

How was he meant to respond to that, short of dipping her backwards and giving her the kind of kiss that the paparazzi outside would sell their souls to get on camera?

It didn't matter to her that it was a coffee, it mattered that it was a coffee **from him**. He registered that he still hadn't removed his hand from around her waist, but she wasn't protesting at all, in fact, she was quite possibly snuggling into him a little bit, so he made no move to do so.

"I'm just hoping she'll be good as Nikki."

"She'll seem painfully out of character to you, anyway, because you created Nikki Heat."

He hummed low in his throat.

"We should probably go find our seats now?"

* * *

The theatre was divided the way Castle had anticipated; guests who had nothing to do with the movie itself near the front, the stars at the centre, and the directors and writers at the back. They were seated dead-centre in the back row.

A booth of sorts partially seperated them from the people on either side. Castle settled into his chair, and watched her do the same.

"This is going to sound weird," she said, "But I'm kind of nervous about seeing Nikki Heat on that screen."

"Because she's based on you?"

"No, not that - well, _yes, _that - but also... what if she's not how I imagined her when I read the books? And what if Rook's all wrong?"

(What she didn't share with him was that no matter how hard she tried to do otherwise, she still imagined him as Jameson Rook and her as Detective Heat every single time she read the books.)

"They've done the best job they can; movies don't usually live up to books, anyway."

Beckett nodded, sliding down in her chair to rummage around in her little golden clutch purse. After a minute, she pulled out a - what was that?

A smile melted over his face.

She placed the bag of gummy bears on the chair arm between them with a smile of her own.

* * *

Please review :3


	5. I never know what's coming

Next to her, Castle was practically _vibrating _with excitement as the lights started to dim. She was reminded vaguely of a bumblebee; clumsy, hyperactive. Adorable.

Beckett herself wasn't sure how much she was going to enjoy watching a sexed-up fictional verson of herself gallivanting around onscreen with a less loquacious and more muscular version of Castle, but as long as she was sitting next to him, she wasn't complaining.

Yet.

She wasn't complaining yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him squishing a red gummy bear between his thumb and forefinger as if taking out some of his anxiety on the sugary confection. She poked him in the ribs. He squealed. Actually squealed. As in, squealed like a little-girl-whose-hair-had-been-pulled-by-the-boy-she-liked-in-the-playground.

"Shh!"

"What was _that_ for?"

"What did the poor gummy bear ever do to you?"

"... I don't like the red ones." Beckett swiped the bear from his fingers and popped it in her mouth.

"There. Problem solved."

They settled into silence momentarily, until she couldn't resist speaking once more.

"You totally squealed just then."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"It was just an alarmed noise."

"An alarmed _squeal."_

He glared at her, and chewed menacingly. Well, apparently he thought he was chewing menacingly, but unfortunately for him it was impossible to eat gummy bears and look even slightly menacing at the same time.

Then, the screen cut to Nikki Heat - Beckett couldn't help but think indignantly that she _never_ wore red lipstick to work, and since when did her outfit match Castle's? - and both of them, for the moment, turned their attention to the movie.

* * *

It was an hour and five minutes into the movie, and Kate Beckett was _not _a happy bunny.

"Oh my **god.**" Castle hissed next to her, squirming in his seat.

"Hmm?"

"Whoever created this movie clearly didn't read my books."

"I know!" Beckett whispered, beheading a gummmy bear with her teeth and hoping her chewing looked more menacing than Castle's had. "We do _not _behave like that in public. Or ever."

"Even when we are highly intoxicated, we behave with more class."

"Agreed."

During the course of their small conversation, Nikki and Rook had somehow managed to rid themselves of half their clothes and were now kissing furiously in a bedroom that she couldn't imagine the Jameson Rook she'd conjured up in her head living in.

(Oh, right. That might possibly be because, in her head, Rook and Castle were the same person. Or at least they had been until an hour and ten minutes ago.)

"Ugh, they have our chemistry all wrong!" she found herself ranting, crossing her arms over her chest and hugging herself as if she could gain some sort of comfort from it.

"I know, right? You have never winked at me when we've been flirting. Ever."

"Absolutely not! And if you used a pickup line like that on me..."

"I'd be minus several limbs and plus a concussion."

"We are so much better at being us than they are."

* * *

Castle watched in growing alarm as Nikki and Rook began semi-romantically removing each other's clothes and flinging them haphazardly across the room.

"Crap, I can't watch, I can't watch..." Beckett groaned from next to him, burying her face in her hands and making a muffled noise of discomfort.

"Neither can I, don't worry. God, this is awful." He half-shielded his own eyes from the screen, unsure if partially watching the movie and being subjected to highly unrealistic sex, or not watching and having to guess what on earth Rook was doing to Nikki to produce those kind of strange sounds was worse.

"Our first time," she mumbled, "Would not be like that."

"I highly doubt we'd be thinking clearly enough to set out candles everywhere."

"And it wouldn't be slow, not like that, not the first time."

"And no rose petals. Rose petals! Who does that?"

"We're too spontaneous for a cliche like that anyway. Make it interesting, please." Had she just put in a _request _for the sex they were apparently going to have in the future? Uh. Well. Okay then. He could definitely make it interesting.

"Ohhh, no, no, not violin music! Please not violin music! Any more and they're going to have to rename this 'One Hour and Fifty-Five Minutes of Overwhelming Cliches and Highly Unrealistic Sex.'! "

"We deserve better music than this! Even if we did somehow manage to do it slow, not violins. No violins."

" "Ready To Love Again' by Lady Antebellum."

"Or 'Beautiful Mess' by Jason Mraz. Wait... what?"

"Nothing."

"Right." Castle made a mental note to search the lyrics to that song on YouTube when he got home.

(Next to him, Beckett decided to do the same thing.)

As Nikki and Rook rolled around in the rose petals some more - he couldn't get over the fact that there were _rose petals_, who the hell had put that in? It wasn't and would never be in any of the books - Kate reached over and lifted his hand from his knee, placed it on the arm rest in between them.

"What're you doin'?" She linked her fingers through his the way he had held her hand as they walked down the red carpet.

"Making this movie slightly more bearable for both of us." he stroked his thumb over the soft skin on the side of her index finger, risking a glance in her direction.

Oh. Beckett.

Her eyes were fixed on the movie, but in the faint light thrown from the screen, he could see that a small smile had curved across her mouth, pulling it up at the corners.

_You beautiful, beautiful person. Can I keep you?"_

It was then that he remembered the one part of the movie that he'd actually had a say in. He checked his watch. Should be coming up in a few minutes.

* * *

Nikki and Rook finally, finally faded to black, and Beckett waited for the credits to start rolling, but instead the screen showed a picture of a book, a book entitled 'Heat Wave'. Ah. She had to admit, that was a kind of cool way to put the credits in.

The book opened, and the first page showed a picture of Castle. "Based on the bestselling novel by Richard Castle." Hmm, well, she knew that. He'd written it about her.

The next page flicked open.

Her heart stopped beating.

Instead of the names of the actors and actresses, there was a short dedication in handwriting that looked a lot like Castle's.

"_To KB - I knew you'd cave and watch the movie._" she rolled her eyes, but then noticed the smaller script below.

"_You can have as much of my 'always' as you need."_


	6. Forever fascinated

She looked at him as the lights started to brighten, looked at him with the colours of the screen reflected in her eyes.

"I... thank you." Beckett murmured, swallowing down the other words that were stuck in her throat.

He watched her as if he knew the things she wasn't saying. Maybe he did; maybe it was that obvious. Maybe. She lifted their joined hands to her mouth, skimmed her lips over the ridges of his knuckles as if that was enough.

"Thank you." she pressed the words into his skin with her mouth as if that would keep them stamped there forever, a promise.

Because he had just told her that he would wait as long as she needed him to.

Because she didn't think she needed him to wait very long at all.

Because she loved him.

Beckett slid her fingers free from his, immediately missing the warmth of his palm, the way his fingers filled the gaps between hers. She swore she was turning into a teenager again; sweaty palms and racing heartbeats, and more likely than not, when she got home from this she was _probably _going to dance around her bedroom like she had when she was fourteen.

(She was never going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.)

* * *

They made their way out of the theatre, and she listened in disbelief as the people around them raved about the movie.

_"Their chemistry was amazing!"_

_"And that sex scene..."  
_

She turrned to see her partner already quirking an eyebrow at her.

"I know." he mouthed, rolling his eyes - he'd picked up that habit from her, actually - and shaking his head. "We only think it's bad because we know how much better we could do."

"I think I'll stick to the books." she admitted quietly, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. "Much better."

"Kate, there _is _going to be an after party," Castle said, "And we can go if you want to, but I've never especially enjoyed them, and to be honest, that movie wasn't something I feel like celebrating, even if that guy from the vampire movies is going to be there."

"Let's go somewhere else, then." Somewhere that would give her one more opportunity to hold his hand. Just once more.

"This is a date, right?"

"I think we've gone over that enough, Castle, _yes_, it is."

"And we're following our trail of cliches quite nicely, I believe, so why not continue? Dinner and a movie. It's a classic."

"Dinner? Castle, it's half past eleven."

"Desert, then. I can show you a great little cake place I know..." She was a bit hungry.

"Sounds good."

"Shall we?" Rick gestured towards the door. She was taken aback, once again, by how _good _he looked in a suit. Every time she thought she'd gotten used to it, just a little bit, she would glance at him and his attractiveness would grab a sledgehammer and whack her over the head with it.

"Yeah. We shall." Did she really just compare his sex appeal to being hit with a sledgehammer?

The guy at the door winked at them as they left, obviously supplying his own reasons as to why they were leaving early. _We're going to eat cake together, not have wild limo sex!_

Once again, the flood of noise washed over them as the swarm of photographers went absolutely crazy. It was like tossing a piece of bread into a flock of seagulls.

Castle reached for her hand straight away, a possessive side to the gesture that made her re-consider wild limo sex, just for a second. _Stupid sledgehammer wielding sex appeal. _The voices of the fans around them pulsed at her ears, disjointed sounds until she realised what they were chanting.

_Kiss._

* * *

God_,_ why couldn't the crazy fanbase just be nice for a _few_ seconds?_  
_

The words they were yelling grew clearer, clearer, and he felt her grip on his hand tighten.

"C'mon, let's just get to the limo." he whispered in her ear, just in case they freaked her out. She spun around, let go of his hand and faced him, her eyes an astonishing color in the odd lighting. A soft of reddish amber-hazel.

Ohmygodohmygod, what was she _doing? _One of her hands slid up to cup the side of his face, fingers splaying behind his ear, and she tilted her head, leaning in towards him.

"Why not give them what they asked for?" she said, so quiet that she barely heard him, and then she pushed the rest of the distance and he was _gone._

It was a mixture of heady satisfaction - exactly how many years had he wanted to kiss this woman for? - and a sort of curling disappointment that they were sharing yet another kiss that shouldn't have meant as much as it did.

Her mouth slanted over his, again and again, and he pulled her closer, thumbs gently stroking over her satin-covered waist. She tasted like gummy bears, and so did he, and the kiss was too impossibly sweet. Addictive.

There was a brief slide of her tongue against his, and then she pulled away slowly, her mouth leaving his with a soft pop.

Castle felt dazed. Their hands somehow joined again, although he couldn't for the life of him tell who initiated it, and they walked to the limo, perfectly in-stride. He mumbled some strangled instructions to his driver as Kate slipped in, slid across the seat.

Once the driver shut the door, the screams of the fans were blissfully muted.

"The photos they took then," she murmured, and he thought she was going to complain despite the fact that _she _had kissed _him_, but then she continued. "I want some of them for my birthday too, okay?"

Did she just..? She **did.**

"I.. wha.. why did- huh?" Oh. Wow, Castle, that was incredibly eloquent. Don't worry, it's not like you're a writer or anything.

"Sorry, Rick, but I couldn't resist."

"You couldn't resist kissing me?" he really needed to work on that brain-mouth filter of his.

"I- yes? But if you're worried about it, y'know, uh, being fake... I meant it. Even if it was for them, I meant it, too."

Brain? What brain? It had quite possibly shrivelled up and died inside his skull.

"I meant it as well."

"I could tell." He wasn't looking at her face, but he was pretty sure she was smirking at him in that way she did. "Now, how about that dessert you were talking about?"

* * *

(Beckett was still trying astoundingly hard not to let her mind wander to thoughts of wild limo sex.)


	7. Hope you don't stop runnin' to me

Kate wasn't especially sure what to do with herself on the limo ride to wherever-the-hell-they-were-going; wasn't sure what was okay and what was not.

They had held hands in the darkness of the theater. Was that okay? Probably.

Her hand had slid around the firm curve of his waist as they'd left. Was that okay? Possibly.

And she had slid her tongue in Castle's very willing mouth in front of several hundred people, some of whom had cameras. Was _that_ okay, in the back of a limo with no one and nothing to distract them from each other?

No.

(The little Nikki-Heat voice in her head suggested that it would feel very, very, **very **okay, but she chose to ignore that.)

* * *

For what was not the first time in the past few hours, Castle wanted to squeal. Loudly.

God, what was it about Kate that made him squeal-ish?

Hm. Well. It possibly had something to do with the fact that she had just kissed him. A lot.

Yeah, that was it.

Because omgomgomgomg that had totally just happened, and unless his, uh, lips had been decieving him, she had enjoyed it almost as much as he had.

He pressed his lips tight together in a valiant attempt to stop a smile from curving over the same lips that Beckett had kissed barely minutes before.

Castle sat in contented silence, listening to the hum of the engine.

* * *

They stopped a few blocks away outside a tiny little shop that seemed almost too picturesque to be real. It was painted a shade of pale orange that should have looked garish but didn't, and Kate noted that little baskets with frilly peach-colored flowers growing in them hung down from the veranda.

It was such an adorable little place, and the idea that Castle frequented it was equally adorable.

A bell over the door chimed softly as they entered, warm scents that hinted at cinnamon, ginger, and the unmistakeable tang of coffee surrounding them in waves. The inside of the shop was cluttered, mismatched squishy leather couches and gnarled wooden tables scattered haphazardly around.

It was, she thought, the kind of place her mother would have loved.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Castle mused softly next to her, and she had to agree.

"Doesn't exactly seem like your kind of thing."

"Ah, well, Detective, I'm full of surprises. Pick something." he gestures at the cabinet next to the counter with a sweep of his arm. Beckett found her mouth watering without her permission.

There were tiny little flaky pastries with elegant puffs of cream, moist-looking chocolate cakes topped with flakes of almond, berry tarts layered with custard. She doesn't normally go for dessert; doesn't have the time for meal accessories, but this... yum.

"The caramel macadamia tart, please." she finds herself saying, and he nods, making his way to the counter.

"Good choice."

Although if anyone dared to confront her about it, she would deny it for all she was worth, Kate found herself watching him as he ordered. Mm. That suit. She loved it. His hair was slightly more tousled than it had been when he'd picked her up, and she couldn't- oh. Right. She'd kind of been running her fingers through it. Okay. The bob of his throat when he swallowed, the upward curve of his surprising long eyelashes; she committed them both to memory.

She wondered what he'd looking like while sleeping... she'd only seen him asleep a few times, and never under normal circumstances, unless the time they had woken up on a dirty mattress in that creepy little room counted. Which it possibly did not, because they'd kind of been drugged and handcuffed together.

"Penny for them?"

Beckett realised that he was standing in front of her with two plates in one large hand - he had nice hands - and a confused expression on her face. Ah. _"I was just thinking about how you look when you're sleeping." _Yeah, that'd go down well.

"Worth more than a penny." she replied with a smirk, weaving her way between the occupied chairs. How was this place even busy this late? She found a table in one of the corners, right next to the window, and slid her way into one of the chairs.

The table was absolutely miniature; their knees brushed underneath it. She suppressed a shiver and hoped he didn't notice the sea of goosebumps the touch raised on her skin.

To distract herself, she cut off a piece of the tart, nibbled at it, and all of a sudden she understood exactly why this place was still open and busy at this time of night. It was actually like biting into heaven. A moan escaped without her permission, and Rick looked at her like he wanted to- neverminddon'tthinkaboutthat.

She dropped her eyes to the table for half a second, because tables were really unsexual and relatively unattractive and she desperately needed to look at something that wasn't delicious right now.

Castle took a bite out of his- she had no idea what it was, really, just that it was impossibly dark chocolate-coloured cake layered with cream and what looked like cherries and raspberries. She couldn't resist watching as a blob of cream stuck to the inviting crease in the corner of his mouth.

She really, really, _really _wanted to lean across the table and kiss it away.

He saw her staring - of course he did. He was always observant when she didn't want him to be - and chuckled, thumbing at his mouth himself.

"Want some?" Castle murmured, flicking his eyes towards his cake just in case she got the wrong message.

"Half of mine for half of yours?" she supplied, wishing it wasn't such an accurate metaphor for where their relationship was heading. He slid half of the cake onto her plate; swiped one half of the caramel tart.

"Of course." Beckett thought he'd possibly picked up on the connotations of what she'd just said. He didn't mention it.

Their coffees arrived, and he thanked the waitress with a flourish.

Her latte had a loveheart stencilled into the milk foam on top. Her eyes narrowed.

"Anything I should know about this before I try it?" Damn you, hidden metaphors. Damn you.

"It's white chocolate and raspberry." Good, he hadn't picked up on that one, at least. But then... "You should try it, even if you have your doubts. It'll be better than you think." He met her gaze, raised an eyebrow.

Oh. _Oh. _Okay.

Beckett blew across the surface, watched the milk swirl against her breath, and took a sip. He was right; it was actually kind of delicious.

"Don't even _try_ to pretend you don't love it, I already know. You get this look on your face when you're drinking a good coffee." Well, Castle had just admitted to analysing her facial expressions, but what was new? She really needed to work on that poker face of hers.

She pulled a bit of crust from her tart, swirled it through the coffee and popped it in her mouth. Mm.

(It was so, so incredibly tempting to say the '_mmm_' out loud, just for his benefit, but she resisted the urge. Barely.)

* * *

Castle was **not **watching her eat, because that would be creepy and stalkerish and weird. He was just observing her, and coincidentally, she was eating. That was what was going on.

She made eating cake look like a fine art. How. _How._

Beckett licked a bit of caramel from her fork - it was absolutely ridiculous how jealous he was of an eating utensil right then - and pretended not to know that his eyes were on her face. He knew that she knew. She was good at that.

Her knees brushed against his again. Holy crap holy crap holy crappppp, because this was a date and that was what people do on dates, y'know, make out and then brush knees under a table. In that order.

He considered, for a moment, informing her that she had really nice knees. Which she did. But telling her that would be strange. Not that he hadn't said stranger things to her, but _this was a date _(Oh, how he loved telling himself that) and she was meant to think he was at least a little bit sane.

Castle decided to shut up and drink his coffee.

* * *

**Guyyyyysss, thanks so much for all the reviews :3 Just a thingy; if any of you see spelling/grammar mistakes (Which there _will_ be, because none of this has been proof-read at all and all of it is un-Beta'd) and it bothers you ('cause it bothers me when I see them) could you pretty please quote the mistake to me instead of just saying, "Bro. You're making mistakes." and leaving me to flounder through all the chapters going, "wherrreee issss ittttt?" **

**Thank you 3  
**


	8. Cause I'll always be waiting

She was unsuccessfully hiding a smile; her eyes still fixed on the coffee in front of her. Castle noted that she didn't really appear to mind that his eyes kept darting back to her; which was kind of convenient because he wasn't sure he'd be able to tear his eyes away from her even if he wanted to.

Somehow, wearing a sleek little shimmery dress and seated in a scrubby little leather armchair that was tucked away in the corner of a miniscule café, with her hair slightly wild and a milk-froth moustache, Beckett was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.

(Although, he thought, it wasn't like that was unusual. She seemed to become more gorgeous every time he saw her.)

"Take a picture, Castle," she murmured a flush spreading over the angles of her cheekbones. "It'll last longer."

Oooohhh. That was a good idea.

"D'you mind if I do?"

He wished he'd been quick enough to catch the look that she shot him on camera. Now _that _would have been priceless framed on his bedroom wall.

"As a souvenir?" he added after a moment of thought, and before she was able to protest further, he slid his phone out of his pocket and clicked onto camera. Swiped the pad of his thumb over the 'capture' button.

And then there she was, centred in the screen of his phone, all long legs and laughter, with a cherry she'd somehow pinched from the top of his cake without him noticing halfway to her mouth. Castle briefly considered setting the photo as his screensaver.

The real Beckett scowled at him with a pucker of her eyebrows, her teeth scraping over the soft curve of her bottom lip.

"You really need a souvenir?" she asked, trying to bite back the half-moon quirk of a smile.

"Well, it's a momentous occasion!" Castle protested, half-joking but at the same time half-serious because they were sort of on a date and dates were important. "And I want to remember it."

Kate paused, dipping a long finger into the froth of her coffee and slowly licking it off. Mesmerising.

The way her tongue curled around the digit; how her lips slid up to the second knuckle as she drew it into her mouth, the soft pop as she—

"You don't have to."

"Huh?" And he was back to monosyllabic responses. Great,

"You won't need to remember it," she seemed to swallow down the end of the sentence before it could escape. Her eyes dropped to the table again. "There'll be… plenty more to come."

"Plenty more?"

"I can't promise you much, Rick, but I can promise you that there will be a next time for us."

"A next time," Castle repeated. He rolled the words around in his mouth. They tasted good. They held hope.

"But next time, I get to choose when and where." and then- did Kate Beckett really just wink at him? Maybe he was hallucinating.

"Granted." they nodded at each other, each picking up their respective coffee cups.

* * *

Beckett smiled into the welcoming curve of the mug in her hand. Her heart thudded in her ears, in the pads of her fingers where they pressed against the ceramic, because she had actually just asked Castle out on a date.

Even though it probably didn't count as 'making the first move' when she was already on a date with him, she thought it was still kind of significant.

And, anyway, he'd said yes.

She drained the last of her coffee. He'd been right about the white chocolate – raspberry flavour; she _did_ like it. Damn him and how well he knew her.

Castle set his cup down on the table, sliding his fork into the centre of his plate and sitting back in his chair to watch her again. She mirrored his actions; slid down in her chair and lifted her eyes to his face.

Beckett found herself searching his eyes for an answer to a question she didn't know.

"I think," he said at last, the rasp of his voice only slightly louder than the clatter of the café around them, "That I should get you home."

She found a protest forming in the back of her throat without her permission.

"Although I'm flattered that you enjoy my company so much – and believe me, I return the favour – I think its bad manners to keep a lady out too late on a first date."

Apparently, the protest had been showing on her face.

(Either that, or he could read her mind, and that would mean he knew about all the times she'd imagined him na- uh. Never mind.)

Beckett nodded, accepted the hand he held out to help her up from her chair. The rough warmth of his palm was comforting against hers; the soft press of his fingers against her knuckles almost like a kiss.

They paused, linked by their hands.

He glanced down at their fingers, curled together, and smiled, before leading her out of the café and into the smoky, lamp-lit light outside.

The sky was dimly patterned with stars that were dulled by the glow of the city, like a game of join the dots across the- holy shit, she was holding hands with Castle. For not the first time in the past few hours.

Beckett let go of his palm only to link her fingers more securely through his; weaving them together. Anchoring them. Castle shot another smile in her direction, another one of those smiles he seemed to think she didn't notice, but she intercepted it, held on to it. Put it in her pocket for the next time she was lying in bed being confused about him.

* * *

She didn't let go of his hand when they got into the limo.

Instead, they both slid in the same side, shuffled over until they sat with their joined hands resting on the seat in between them. Well, um, that was kind of really awesome. Castle could feel a pulse thrumming in her thumb, beating weakly against his skin.

Not that he was so acutely aware of every single point where their skin was touching that he noticed every tiny movement she made. Not at all.

He risked another glance over at her only to find that she was already looking at him.

There was something in her eyes that he'd caught a glimpse of occasionally, but had never had the chance to observe properly. A gentleness, a warmth that softened her gaze. It was look he saw in parts on Alexis' face when she was talking about a boy she liked; and he knew Esposito wore the same expression whenever he talked to Lanie. He'd seen it on his own face too, sometimes. But only when he was around her.

Because, oh my god, all maturity aside, Kate Beckett totally liked him.

And he wholeheartedly returned those feelings.

So where did that leave them?

* * *

Beckett hummed under her breath, mapping out the long bones of Castle's hand with her fingers.

They were actually starting this.

* * *

"I'm walking you to your door."

"Not that I'm complaining, Castle, but it _is_ right there."

"Nope. We're pulling out all the cliches; a movie, dinner - well, desert. Same thing - and now I walk you home."

Kate sighed, wrapping a curl of hair around her finger as they walked, slow, shoulders occasionally bumping.

"I had a great time tonight."

"That was so cheesy."

"I know."

They stopped at the door, cloaked in the darkness thrown by the side of the building. He was being a gentleman, she could tell; because both of them knew what cliche came next, and if he wasn't going to say it then-

"Kiss me." Well, that was kind of unexpected. Her mouth had apparently detached itself from her brain and- oh, well, too late now. Time to kiss Castle.

He chuckled under his breath, but didn't seem to mind at all. He lifted a hand to her face, fingers spanning her cheek. She slid her fingers over his arm.

They were magnized, pulling closer, cloer to each other- and then nothing else mattered because she was kissing Castle and it was everything that kiss for the paparazzi hadn't been.

Wild limo sex probably would have been fun, but she settled for the soft slide of his lips over hers, the way he cradled her jaw as if she was precious.

* * *

He made sure he kept it light, because there had always been a spark, and if they lit that fuse, he didn't think either of them would have the self control to stop. It would be great, but he wanted to do this properly. Do it right.

Castle pulled away from the press of her mouth softly, her breath fanning over his lips. Beckett's eyes opened slowly, almost sleepily.

(A little part of him wondered if that would be how her eyes would open the first time he woke her with a kiss in the morning.)

She ducked her head forward, dropped a lingering kiss on his cheek, and- okay, he was **not **hallucinating, she had actually just winked at him.

"Until tomorrow." she murmured, and then she was gone with a glitter of green under the dim light.

He whirled around, pressed his back to the wall behind him. Wow.

* * *

Beckett found herself laughing as she decided to take the stairs because she had a lot of I-just-kissed-Castle-and-it-was-awesome buzzing around in her body.

Huh. Well. _We just went on a **date.**_

_I'm dating Castle._

And that, she decided, was that.

She was dating Castle.

* * *

Well well well, you guys, I think I may just leave that there. A sequel may be made at some point in the distance future.


End file.
